


The Taste Of You

by Insignias



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Aliens, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Femdom, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Polyamory, Shallurance, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 22:37:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13844469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insignias/pseuds/Insignias
Summary: “You were told not to come by yourself,” The voice purrs; silver hair tickles his skin as Allura sets her teeth to his ear, “You should listen.”





	The Taste Of You

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this basically as soon as I saw the season 5 clip with Allura and Lance. It was intended to be a birthday present for SouthernBird but I....couldn't wait and she gave me permission. It's also pure filth and the first time I've written a threesome so like...goal achieved. Please enjoy!
> 
> As of this posting, I have not seen season 5! (I've just woken up to start it, though! :) )

A set of fingers trace up Lance's spine, gathering the sweat up his back; nails scrape along his stuttering nerves. Soft breath curls in his ear, the hint of a smile at its edge as he swallows, clutches at the sheets. They find purchase under his arms without warning and lift with ease. Lance gasps, groans as Shiro slips out of him with an obscene sound; ruts feebly in protest.

“You were told not to come by yourself,” The voice purrs; silver hair tickles at his skin as Allura sets her teeth to his ear, “You should listen.” 

Lance laughs; a cracked, hollow sound and lets his head drop to her shoulder, lost for a moment in the clench of his bereft body; the grip of Shiro's hands, hot and humming, as he traces maddening circles into his overheated skin. 

“Can't blame a man for trying,” He murmurs, grins as she bites him and gasps as Shiro smacks him, hard, on the left cheek. 

“Lance.” Comes the warning, the order, but he only spares the man a heated glance, unbowed, as he pants and fits a trembling hand to Allura's chin.

“Princess.” He murmurs and she indulges, kissing him, forcing him to bend further back; lets Shiro watch as he twists so easily; pliant and trembling for their touch. 

“Will you listen, sweet one?” She asks, heavy-lidded, purring as Lance tastes her again. Her fingers trace the outline of his pectorals, a tease and promise as Lance breath stutters, hitches along with his hips. Shiro steadies him with ease, slips two fingers behind to trace his rim, because he's the worst sort of tease. 

Lance frowns, brows drawn tight as Allura teases his nipples to hard pebbles, gaze avid, “You promised,” He hisses and reaches for Shiro, clumsy. Allura lets him go, slumping forward into Shiro's embrace, knock-kneed; slick glistening in the low-light as he bares himself for her instead, shameless. 

“You promised, didn't you?” His hands cup Shiro's jaw, blue eyes blown black as he stares into him, suddenly intense, “that if I was good you'd both fuck me.” 

Then he grins at him, open and mischievous as Shiro's hands flex against him, “Haven't I been good, Shiro? You asked me not to come until you came back, and I listened, didn't I?” 

Shiro looks at him, steady, opens his mouth to agree--and grunts as Lance's fingers trace up his slick shaft, impish and sweet,“Allura tastes so good, Shiro. She let me have her every time I asked.” He gasps, bites his lip as his head drops forward, hands slipping to Shiro's scarred shoulders. Allura winks at him from over Lance's shoulder; she's slipped long fingers into Lance, opening him up again with practiced ease, “But I didn't come. I was so good. Don't I get a reward for it?”

“He's been very eager,” She tells him as she tugs at Lance's rim, earning a keen from him; a twitch of his hips, “I confess I tried several different forms for him, but he isn't one to back down.” 

Her hand slips forward, presses into his perineum, earning a soft hitch of breath. Lance's cock bobs between them, a string of precum spattering on Shiro's belly, “And he did listen. It was beautiful to see.”

Shiro laughs against Lance's bowed head, presses a kiss to it as Lance mewls, “What was your favorite, Lance?” He asks, securing Lance's hips of her. She flashes a wondrous smile to him as she slicks her fingers, “was it the tentacle?” 

Lance pants, lost, until Shiro kisses his forehead, his eyelid, murmurs at him to look up. He blinks at him, languid, licks his lips, “That one's good,” Lance mumbles, flickering back to life, “but the ridged one is better. Makes my tongue tingly.”

“A mild poison,” Allura hums, “for humans, I believe. For their species it acts as an aphrodisiac.” 

“Same here, princess,” Lance croaks, groaning as Allura shoves in deep, pumping her fingers in a rough, steady rhythm. In appreciation or challenge, it's difficult to tell. Lance grins at Shiro; he knows which.

“That's because you haven't met a challenge you didn't want to beat,” Shiro chides him, nipping at his chin. Lance gasps. “How many fingers?” 

“Mm?” Lance murmurs, cries out as Shiro smacks him again, this time on the right. 

“Focus.” Shiro rumbles, rough enough to make Lance shiver for it, “How many fingers?” 

Lance hums at him, kisses the tip of his nose, “Three—mn—ooh, four now.” He rolls his head on his shoulder to look back at her; blows her a sloppy kiss, “keep it up and I'll take you both.”

Allura growls at him, the harmonics of it low and thrumming through them both, skin pebbling in warning and anticipation. 

“You're so willing, Lance,” She breathes; leans forward to rest her chin on his shoulder, taste the sweat of his neck, “it's lovely. But.” She bites his shoulder, startling a cry from him as she fits her hands to his hips, fingers lacing with Shiro's own, “First I want to hear you scream for him.” 

She moves him then, easily, forcefully, guiding Lance and pushing him onto Shiro's cock in a single smooth motion. A cry shatters in Lance's throat, his head cracking backward, eyes blown wide at the sudden stretch of it. Shiro groans for it, muscles jumping in his thighs; hips tensing and rocking up into that perfect, tight heat. 

Allura laughs at them both, soft and delighted, and lifts Lance up to hear it again. Lance keens high as he clenches around Shiro's cock, not wanting to part with it, but Allura is a force of her own making, guiding him up until the head of Shiro's cock slips out to press against Lance's fluttering hole, teasing and not near enough. 

“Allura,” Lance wheezes, fights their grip, rocks down with as much strength as he can muster, drawn tight as a bowstring to chase that feeling again. Shiro watches her with a steady, black-rimmed gaze, waiting for her even as his hands tremble; cock flexing. 

“Darlings, you look so lovely like this,” She murmurs to them both, crowding Lance, her breasts twin spots of heat to his overheated skin. He wants to suck them, to tease them until Allura's squirming for it, press his fingers inside her and taste her body until she's screaming for him, too. 

Allura rumbles, pleased, and Lance has enough thought to wonder if he said that out loud before she's seizing his hips and guiding him down again, drawing him back up before the cry can leave his throat. 

“Fast then,” She murmurs, grip tightening, setting their pace as Lance sobs and squirms, clenching unevenly as he's forced to move as she likes, punctuated by the uneven thrust of Shiro's hips, their rhythm unsteady until Allura growls, and shoves Lance down hard onto him.

“Follow,” She orders, lifting Lance between them to shove him down again. He whimpers, claws helplessly at their joined grip. Shiro groans, shuddering, and obeys, letting Allura set their pace, the flush pooling down his chest, scars in sharp relief. 

She quickens their pace in increments, soft orders purred into Lance's throat, commanding and calm as his cock bobs with the brutal pace; the sounds spilling from him, high and cracked. 

“Please,” He keens, head hanging, eyes clenched shut, unable to take more, “Please, please, I want to come. Let me, please, fuck, please!” The last is punched out of him as Allura drops him abruptly, the slide of Shiro's cock perfect and too much and still somehow not enough. He cries out again as she grinds him down, grip a vice, Shiro's tiny, rocking thrusts teasing and almost, almost enough. 

“You haven't screamed for us yet, darling.” Allura murmurs to his ear, soft and almost mournful, “Perhaps a week was not enough? Would you like more time?”

“Oh my god,” Lance sobs, his eyes blow wide, desperate and clawing, his body shaking, muscles jumping in his skin, “No, no, I want to, please, please let me come, oh my god.” 

“Then show us, sweet prince,” Her teeth find his shoulder, bite deep enough to bruise, “show me what we must do for you.” 

Her grip on his hips relaxes and Lance whines high in his throat, clenching and clenching around Shiro but it isn't enough. He moans and drops forward, burying his face in the crook of Shiro's neck, panting and exhausted, strung tight with need. 

“Lance,” Shiro murmurs, shifting his hands to stroke Lance's thighs, soothing and still somehow too much as he slips out of Lance just a little. 

Lance gasps, low and stuttering, and shifts on his knees; pulling forward just far enough back he can kiss Shiro, sloppy and unsteady. 

“Here, here,” He murmurs against Shiro's lips and drives himself back down, short, quick thrusts before he grinds onto Shiro's cock, hips swiveling like a dancer before lifting up again. Shiro moans into Lance's mouth, grunts as Lance repeats it, the soft sounds he makes obscene between them. He presses their foreheads together as Lance continues, chases Lance's heat with his hips, filling him and filling him until Lance is trembling, shaking with effort and need. 

“Almost, almost,” Lance whines, faster as he chases his orgasm, brows drawn taunt as he bares his teeth, “'M close, close, fuck—fuck!” And Lance is writhing, clenching arythmically, shouting as seizing as he's suddenly stretched wider, gasping and clenching around cock and fingers, Allura pressing herself against his back once more, murmuring praise for him, how well he's done, how pretty he's taken Shiro and her. He cries out again as Shiro thrusts hard into him, between them, the hot flood of him too much and perfect, and he clenches again for that too. 

He slumps forward as the waves of his orgasm ebb, lets Shiro cock slip from him; hole fluttering in protest as both withdraw. He mewls into Shiro's throat, licks at the sweat gathered and screams as something fills him again, wide and wide and wider, too much for his nerves until he feels as if he may shatter. 

“Oh, lovely,” Allura croons, tugging at his hips, pulling him back until he slumps against her, her cock long and wide, driving into him deep as she settles him against her. He shudders and heaves for breath, wide-eyed and speechless, shorted out. 

“What do you feel, my prince?” She murmurs, stroking his sides, down and down until she catches his hands. She laces their fingers together and draws him up, presses them both low on his belly, “Can you feel me?” 

Lance whimpers, gasping and exhausted, everything oversensitive and sawed to threads. He chokes out a noise as she rocks against him, clenching around her instinctively, he feels her purr through his chest. 

“My darling, tell me what you feel.” Soft, but an order, punctuated by a kiss to his cheek, the puff of breath against his ear. He swallows, tries for words. 

“You,” He whispers finally, voice cracked and withered, “You're inside me.” 

“Oh yes, my love,” She murmurs, sets her nose against his pulse to take in his scent, “but what do you feel?” 

Lance's brows furrow, and he tests, clenching down on her even as his body screams in protest, breath hitching as he does it again, because she makes that sound again, “smooth?” He whispers, and she hums, amused. 

“Correct,” Her can feel her teeth against his shoulder and it's the only warning he gets before he's kicking out, shouting to the ceiling as she expands inside him, his body clenching tight as the ridges scrape against his walls, jarring all sense from him as she takes her fill. 

He writhes against her, hips pulled taunt as she pants into his year, the smile in her voice as she rubs soothing circles with both their hands, though they tremble now, too. “What about now?”

“Fuck.” Lance whispers, eyes blown eyes, unfocused as he stares forward, hips humping instinctively, where to or away he can't tell, “Fuck, jesus, oh my god.” 

“I haven't fucked you with this one yet,” She murmurs pressing him to her, hips flush against his own, “Do you like it?” 

“Yes,” he whines, blinking, dazed, he can feel so much of her, every movement, every seize of his body reminding him of her shape, how he's taken her, “Yes, yes, oh my god.” 

“Mm, I believe Shiro does too,” He can sense her looking at the other man, the way her lips shift against his skin, her teeth as they split into a smile. Shiro is looking at them both, flushed and panting, his cock twitching back to life as he watches. But he doesn't touch.

“Why don't you show Shiro how you took it the first time, Lance?” Allura flexes her hips, drives a cry from his throat as she pants against his ear, “Come here, Shiro.”

Lance stares as Shiro obeys, shifting on his knees to slide closer; licking his lower lip in anticipation. Allura hums in approval, shifts their clasped hands down, framing Lance's filling cock. 

“Tell him how you did it, Lance,” She murmurs, the order singing down his spine, “Show him how you pleased me.” 

“Fuck.” A laugh cracks out him, dry and rattling, seizing inside him until his chest aches from it, “this is gonna be how I die.” 

There's a chuckle in his ear, an answering grin on Shiro's lips as he looks up at them, his lock of white hair sweat-slick and spiked from their attentions, adorable even with the heated glint in his eyes, “And I haven't even started yet.” 

He frames Lance's hips with his hands, breath ghosting over Lance's now full cock as Allura pulls their hands out of the way; traces circles into Lance's skin, lets him pant and claw for sense. 

“What did you do, my love?” She whispers, scenting his hair, “Let him please you as you did me.” 

“Jesus.” Lance gasps, thumps his head to her shoulder and moans as she humps into him, once, twice, “Jesus, when you brought that out I tried to swallow it whole.” 

And then he's shouting again, because Shiro does; one long slide of heat and slick and he's squirming and seizing because it's too much, perfect and fast and with that swallow Shiro does when he's being mean and wants Lance to feel it.

He's keening, warbling and fighting Allura's steel grip as Shiro settles; just far back enough to suck air through his nose and look up at Lance through long lashes, waiting; anticipating.

“You made a lovely attempt, didn't you?” Allura croons into him, and he can feel her trembling just a little; the minute flex of her hips against his ass, not enough, not anymore, and he clenches just to try. She rumbles to him, pleased, but presses no further. 

“You couldn't take me all at once for long,” She pets at his belly with their hands, rests her head on his shoulder to watch them both, “What did you do, then?”

Lance groans as Shiro releases him, a long slow slide; the sound of it obscene in the heated air between them. He pants against her cheek; swallows thickly. 

“I--” He croaks, bares his teeth and tries again, “I tried again, because fuck you're gorgeous, and I wanted you in me-- fucking—god, shit, Shiro--” 

The older man has sucked him in again, flickering his tongue against the crown of his cock and laving at the bottom of it; because he knew that's what Lance would've done, it's his go-to, because everything Allura chooses to have is the best to have, because she's so sensitive and so sweet and the sounds she makes sing through him like a siren's call to give her everything--

And he's shuddering and panting, because Allura's released one of his hands to grasp Shiro's white tuft of hair; pushing him backward with implacable force until he's pulled free of Lance again, dark eyes full of something too heated to name.

“You will listen.” It's a threat and an order, and Lance watches as it settles into Shiro; spreads through the line of his shoulders, the steadying of his breath. She brushes her fingers against his cheek when he opens his eyes to look at her again, the thrum of her approval curling through them.

“Again.” She tells him, her free hand now rising; two fingers finding a nipple, giving a gentle tug, “What did you do next?” 

Lance moans, noses at her until she indulges him, lets him kiss her as she plays with him; their joined hands guiding lower to stroke the soft hair they find, slip lower until they cup and fondle his balls, sending sparks through him until he's panting into her mouth, Shiro's groan in his ears. 

“I sucked the head of your cock,” He tells her, groans as Shiro presses forward once more, “I traced every—fuck, fuck me, oh—I traced every ridge of you with my tongue. I kissed them too, I kissed every part and I sucked you until I got you wet for me, because you tasted so good and I couldn't stop, not for a second, because the more I took the more you wanted from me, the more you cried for me and it was so good—so fucking good and—and, jesus, fucking, fuck—fuck!” 

And he shouts and shudders and seizes because Shiro is tracing the head of his cock, laving the bottom of his shaft, pressing deeper and deeper until he's shoved into Lance's mound with a choked sound because Allura is pumping into him, short, thick thrusts like she did when he'd finally taken her deep, tears pricking because she was big and full and felt so good in his mouth, too much and just right; deep into the back of his throat and he was sore for days after, hoarse and grinning because it made her squirm to hear it. 

She fucks him hard, the ridges of her cock shaping him to her, jarring spiked sensation through him as Shiro sucks him too, his moans juddering up Lance's spine, weak and choked by their combined movements; Lance caught tight between. There are stars exploding behind his eyelids as her hands release his, lay over top Shiro's as she pulls out and shoves inside him with a shout, her thrusts powerful and taking. He's clutching at Shiro's shoulders, the back of his head, anything, anything to keep him grounded, conscious, held together by threads on this plane of existence because he's being pulled apart; the fluttering suction of Shiro's mouth and the rough sense of Allura shoving into him too much to bear, for anyone to; stretched beyond reason and screaming it, falling apart for it, until all that's left is the fire exploding out of him and his scream echoing through the walls. 

He comes back to himself a lifetime later, a sob wringing out of him, Shiro nosing weakly at his cock; spent and sore, licking it clean even as Lance whimpers and hitches his hips away, and keens as Allura's cock drags through him, softened but still large, now truly too much.

“Hush, my love,” Allura soothes, petting him with trembling hands, pressing languid kisses to his forehead, his wet cheeks, “Just a moment.” 

He nods weakly, shivers against her, his hands smoothing through Shiro's fuzz of hair; mindless in his quest for comfort. He can feel Shiro's breath, slow and uneven, his head resting at the juncture of Lance's thigh; the splatter of come cooling on his knee. 

He sobs again when Allura pulls free of him, sloppy and slow, the mess of both his lovers making it easier, but not enough; it leaves him trembling like a newborn fawn.

“Here,” Shiro rumbles, rough and cracked, guiding Lance into his arms, “here. I've got you.” 

“Fuck.” Lance whispers, coughs, “I love you both so much.” 

He can sense their smiles as Shiro pets his hair and Allura kisses his back in affirmation, the bed dipping as she pads to the bathroom, instructs the castle for something. He burrows into Shiro's embrace in sleepy gratitude, basking in the gentle massage of Shiro's fingers, exhausted and weak, letting them both tend to him. 

“Wake me up for the next round?” He slurs against Shiro after they've finished, Allura's arms looped over him; their hands clasped together. The both of them laugh; warm breath against skin and murmurs promises as he drifts into the dark.

When he wakes, hours later, it's to a curtain of white hair, the soft gaze of his princess as she frames him with her arms and the gentle rock of the bed. He huffs as her smile widens at his waking, and lifts himself up for his good morning kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment if you're so inclined!


End file.
